Parashat Vayakhel-Pekudei 5780: the Beams of the Shul Stand Up

Rabbanit Leah Sarna | Anshe Sholom B’nai Israel Congregation

Parashat Vayakhel-Pekudei 5780: The Beams of the Shul Stand

Up until their arrival in the State of Israel, the Ethiopian Jewish community believed that the Temple still stood in Jerusalem. Michal Avera Samuel, a prominent member of the Beta Israel community, writes about her childhood in Ethiopia, “Like my parents and teachers, I believed that the Second Temple stood in its place in Jerusalem and was literally made of pure gold. I grew up hearing about the Kohanim — holy priests — and how they worked in the Temple.”

Jews in the rest of the diaspora had known the sad truth for nearly two thousand years: our Temple was destroyed by the Romans. We fasted and we mourned, and we tried to keep the Temple in our hearts even as its reality felt increasingly distant. But for the Ethiopian community, the Temple stood in Jerusalem-- and they just couldn’t go.

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In this week’s Parsha we read about the construction and joyous completion of the Mishkan, the Temple’s mobile predecessor. The Mishkan was carried from place to place, constructed and deconstructed, until the spiritual center of the Jewish people was set in Jerusalem-- at which point the Temple was built and the Mishkan was retired in the days of King Solomon.

Our Parsha dives into the nitty-gritty details of the Mishkan’s construction: וַיַַּעשׂ ֶא ַת־הְקָּר ִשׁים ַל ִמּ ְשָׁכּן ֲעֵצי ִשׁ ִטּים עְֹמִדים׃ ֶע ֶשׂר אַמֹּת אֶֹרְך ַהָקֶּרשׁ וְ ָאַמּה וֲַחִצי ָה ָאַמּה רַֹחב ַהֶקֶּרשׁ ָהֶאָחד׃ They made the planks for the Tabernacle of acacia wood, upright. The length of each plank was ten cubits, the width of each plank a cubit and a half.

And the description of the acacia-wood planks continues for nearly fourteen verses (!). The Talmud in Tractate Yoma 72a picks up on a specific word in these verses: the description of the acacia wood as .עומדים ”upright“ אמר רבי חמא ברבי חנינא מאי דכתיב עצי שטים עומדים? Rabbi Ḥama, son of Rabbi Ḥanina, said: What is the meaning of that which is written: “And you shall make the boards for the Tabernacle of acacia wood, standing”? He offers three answers, the last of which is: ...ד"א עומדים שמא תאמר אבד סברן ובטל סכויין ת"ל עומדים שעומדין לעולם ולעולמים. “Standing” is written to hint at the following: Perhaps you will say that now that the Tabernacle is no longer in use, their hope is lost and their chance is abandoned, and after being stored away the boards will no longer return to use. Therefore, the verse states “standing” to indicate that they stand forever and ever.

1 Rabbanit Leah Sarna | Anshe Sholom B’nai Israel Congregation

The Talmud reflects on the Mishkan’s disuse from a surprising vantage point: the perspective of the materials themselves. The beams themselves want to be used. Facing a future where they will be replaced by the Temple and permanently retired, one might have thought that these beams would “lose hope.” No, says Rabbi Hama. The beams stand. They stand forever and ever. ______

This week we once again face a reality where it would be unsafe for us to gather with our beloved community, in our beloved shul building. There’s something ticklish about imagining this situation from the perspective of the building itself. On a regular Shabbat, she houses our robust and energetic community, with adults and children spread into every imaginable corner of her space. How does our dear, quirky building feel-- left alone now for the second Shabbat in a row? Dejected, hopeless, lonely? Does she know that she has been replaced by Zoom, where we now gather virtually for daily Torah study and communal activities? Or perhaps, like the walls of the Mishkan, she stands ready, in wait. Yearning for our speedy and healthy return, just as much as we wish to return to her. ______

עצי שטים ,The Kli Yakar (R abbi Shlomo Ephraim ben Aaron Luntschitz) wrote on this same phrase acacia wood, upright” in his commentary to Parashat Terumah. He connects the acacia“ עומדים (בר"ר צד, ד) that the Midrash ,עצי ארז ,used for these beams to the cedar trees ,עצי שטים wood, the tells us were planted by Jacob in Egypt. The Kli Yakar writes that this alludes to the verse from the Song of the Day for Shabbat: “The righteous bloom like a date-palm; they thrive like a cedar in Lebanon.” ובא הרמז בארזים אלו למה שנאמר (תהלים צב יג) צדיק כתמר יפרח כארז בלבנון ישגה. ומאחר שגוף הצדיק נמשל לארז זה ע"כ השכין הש"י שכינתו תוך מחיצת עצי ארזים ללמוד בק"ו שהוא שוכן גם בתוך בני ישראל שנמשלו כארזים Once the righteous have been compared to a cedar, then of course Hashem chose to dwell amidst walls made out of cedar, to teach us by means of a kal v’chomer, an a fortiori argument, that of course Hashem dwells amongst the Jewish people, who are compared to cedars.

If Hashem can dwell even within the wooden walls of the Mishkan, then of course He can dwell among us. The wooden walls of the Mishkan are a metaphor for the Jewish people. Hashem is with us. Hashem’s dwelling place is wherever we are.

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On these strange and lonely Shabbatot, we don’t just miss the physical structure of our shul. We miss what our shul contains: a spiritual home. We miss the patterns of synagogue ritual that help us to feel connected to Hashem. The Kli Yakar here reminds us that all physical homes for Hashem--whether the Mishkan, the Temple, or even our beloved shul building-- are but metaphor. If Hashem can dwell

2 Rabbanit Leah Sarna | Anshe Sholom B’nai Israel Congregation within the Mishkan’s mere walls of cedar, then that teaches us that of course Hashem dwells within what those cedar walls represent: us. The Jewish people. Hashem’s true and only home is with the Jewish people, wherever we are to be found. We might be distanced from our beloved shul building, but we are not ever distanced from Hashem.

The Mishkan reminds us that Hashem’s dwelling place is mobile, it can be assembled, disassembled, carried from place to place. The Talmud’s suggestion that the beams of the Mishkan stand ready, ,forever and ever, teaches us that we can always call upon this mobile structure ,לעולם ולעולמים whenever we need it. Whenever our more permanent structures cannot be used. It is in exactly times like ours that we call upon these beams and what they represent: Hashem dwells with us, wherever we are. And this Shabbat, we are in our homes. ______

Knowing that our trusty shul stands there on 540 W Melrose Street, and yet somehow we are praying in our living rooms, is uniquely painful. Somehow it would be easier if the building were, say, under construction. Or destroyed thousands of years ago by the Romans. The yearning is stronger, more intense, knowing that the building stands. Feeling that the building yearns for us too.

The Jewish community of Ethiopia believed that the Temple still stood in Jerusalem, and that belief had an intense impact on their religious belief and practice-- setting them apart from the rest of diaspora Jewry, who mourned the Temple but in many ways found new focal points for their religious attentions.

This Shabbat, we long for our shul and she longs for us. But we can take comfort in knowing that she still stands, waiting, and we will, God willing, return to her. For now, we practice the mobile version of our shul, tapping into the metaphor of what the walls of our shul represent: Hashem dwells with us wherever we are. The divinity of our shul is about us. Even when we are apart, when we open ourselves up, when we make ourselves a home, Hashem dwells in our midst.